


The Queen's Forfeit

by Apple_Fairy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cardverse, Forbidden Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Fairy/pseuds/Apple_Fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fate of the Heart and Spade kingdom lies in the state of the hearts of their Queens. Arthur Kirkland has sworn off love as a result, and Kiku Honda tries to force his to fulfill his role. When the two meet, they find someone who can understand, who they can trust, and who they can love. Yet, with war brewing between their countries, these two will cause unimaginable disaster at the cost of their feelings. Cardverse AU, Asakiku</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen's Forfeit

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is based off a cardverse au I plotted out a long time ago. This is not the complete story, but the first part of it. I hope you enjoy!

When The Queen of Spades first met him it was not face to face but from the reports of his subjects of the newly crowned King and Queen of the Heart kingdom.

 He listened to the warning words of his Jack, Yao. He knew the reasons to remain aware, the idea of the looming Duel, their fate in motion once and for all. With the final coronation it was time for the kingdoms to stay on their toes and to remain alert. He hears the statistics and its all the same as always. The  Heart kingdom was still powerful in magic and had a flourishing agriculture. Their industrial force was lacking in comparison to theirs. But just as Alfred was beside him tuning out, so was Arthur. At least in this way they could say they connected.

Arthur waved Yao away.

“Yes, yes,” he sighed, “I know their strengths and weaknesses. But the royalty, Yao. The King and Queen; tell me of them.”

Yao narrowed his eyes. Arthur was used to this; as royal advisor and overseer of the monarchs he was assured him and Alfred gave him enough to worry about. But Yao kept his words to himself and motioned the servants in, bearing portraits. They unveiled the pictures and Arthur did not flinch. He did not react. He only looked at the faces of his potential enemies or allies and took them in.

“Hm.” Alfred spoke beside him, slumped in his seat, yawning, “They don’t look so special.”

“The King of Hearts, Ludwig Beilshcmidt.” Yao motioned to the strong man, staring stoic and stern with blue eyes. “And his Queen, Kiku Honda.”

One would’ve thought Arthur would react. Looking back on it, anyone would’ve put a romantic spin on it. Perhaps he was supposed to have felt some moment of happiness, some moment of revelation. As if the world opened before him, as if he was not partnered to someone he did not love, as if he did not have to run a country that felt oppressive and judgmental. That what everyone said about their Queen was wrong; that in that moment Arthur was not cold or heartless or incapable of love. That for once, he felt something.

But, admittedly, Arthur did not.

(That all came much later.)

Instead, Arthur examined the picture in front of him. He did note how handsome the Queen was, and was surprised to see there was another male Queen just as himself in this round of the Duel. Yet, that was all. Arthur Kirkland would throw his entire country away for this person, would sacrifice all his happiness and his comfort. Arthur Kirkland would learn how to love from this person and would regret nothing, not even to the bitter end.

But, for now, Arthur only half-heartedly agreed with his King.

“You’re right,” he conceded, “They don’t look very special at all.”

* * *

 

They didn’t talk until much later. Oh they talked _politically,_ of course. Tensions were still high from the last Duel, when they had both helped the Diamond kingdom win. They had worked together but they never saw eye to eye. And it didn’t really start from one place, but from a multitude of half-hearted apologies and passive aggressive maneuvers. The Heart kingdom charged more for exports for the Spade kingdom and they never said why. The Spade kingdom kept edging on their borders and setting up illegal mining operations but never really stopped when caught. It was just how politics went.

And so Arthur never really met Kiku, but only was able to form a base idea about him seeing as how their country treated his. It was a thorn in his side, and a headache he never wanted to deal with. Alfred and he shared the sentiments as two people who grew up with anti-Heart propaganda drilled into their heads. They left meetings and debates to other officials; only directing what to say but never physically saying it.

Until he saw him one summer day.

Arthur was well-versed in magic and his citizens could rightly say he was the best mage their kingdom had. He was Queen after all and had been a worthy candidate for the title. As a result, and as someone who’s magical strength supported the country even more, he trained daily to hone these skills. (And, admittedly, he was horrible with personal politics and being a figurehead. He had no charisma or charm whatsoever so he gladly let Alfred fill that role). Yet, on his way to the library, he witnessed a servant pacing back and forth in front of the meeting room. The person bit at the fingernails and would pause to grab for the door-handle and just as quickly pull away. The pacing started again, and Arthur called out to them.

“You, there! What are you doing?”

The young servant jumped when they heard Arthur’s voice and straightened up, the very picture of attention. “Ah, Your Majesty! Good day!”

She glanced nervously at the door again, and then back at Arthur. It was as if she was weighing in her mind how much he could know and what he shouldn’t. Arthur, prickly person he was, lost patience almost immediately.

“Well, come on, I asked you a question. What are you doing?”

“S-Sir,” she gulped, “I was just wondering if I should bring the Queen of Hearts something to drink while he waits…”

“The Queen? He’s here?”

“Um. For awhile. The King is meant to speak with him but he’s…” she nervously trailed off here. Arthur could rightly predict what was going on. Alfred was probably in a different meeting, a gear-head to the end and was brushing off the Queen entirely. To be honest, he didn’t feel disgust at Alfred’s behavior because this is not the first time they’ve done this and he hasn’t been the only one. However, it was always _messengers_ they brushed off never the actual monarchs. He was surprised to even hear he was here; perhaps he should’ve attended the morning announcements and listened to Yao more closely.

He glanced to the door, and held up a hand for the girl to stop. “Enough.” He told her, “You’re dismissed, let me handle it.”

She bowed and excused herself, sending worried glances back to Arthur. And Arthur considered his possibilities and realized brushing off the Queen could be more of a shift then they wanted. He sighed heavily. It was annoying, but this was his birthright. He’d just have to grit his teeth and bear it.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw the weight he decided to take on. Kiku sat straight and firm, glaring in front of him as if persevering the harshest winter. His mouth was a thin line, his brows were slightly furrowed in annoyance, his entire stance was saying he was insulted and he was angry.

Arthur mentally cursed himself for trying to take this on, but put on his best face when Kiku turned to look at him, still angry, not surprised and entirely not impressed.

“H-Hello. I’m-“

“I know who you are.” Kiku slowly said, his voice deep with venom that surprised Arthur, “And I’m not here to see you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I was meant to see the King. Not the Queen.”

And Kiku turned his head back around, nose in the air, sharp indifference to Arthur’s presence. Arthur frowned, dropping his short-lived cordial façade.

_You don’t have to be so petty about it. God, you’re royalty act like it._ He thought to himself, but shrugged it off.

“The King’s busy.” He continued, “I’m not sure what the meeting is for but if you have any feelings about my kingdom, we can discuss it.”

“I can wait for him.”

_Ungrateful, proud, stupid. I’m doing my part, do yours too!_

“May I ask why you won’t speak to me instead?”

Kiku didn’t say anything. He merely glanced at Arthur as if he was a speck on the ground, gave him a glance over, and looked back ahead. He didn’t turn his head at all, and this only pissed off Arthur more. He considered walking out of there. He considered just dropping it altogether, this is what he gets for reaching out, God why did he even try…

And then Arthur felt hot. He realized the stuffiness of the room was only adding to the situation and he could realize Kiku’s discomfort then. And he should’ve walked out, he should’ve left this person to seethe by themselves, but…

Arthur hesitated. His clothes felt heavy and his head felt hot. This moment felt practiced and he realized Kiku was in the same boat as him and no one wanted to be here and no one wanted to deal with it.

“…You don’t have to wait here.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiku looked at him, confused. Perhaps it was the casual tone of his voice that caught his attention. Arthur felt himself say the words then, not sure where this was coming from, surprised he was even saying it.

“You don’t need to stay here. I can show you our gardens. They’re much more pleasant than this stuffy room.”

Arthur hadn’t expected Kiku to say yes. But after a moment of cautious watching, a nervous glance at the door, he agreed. Arthur felt a mix of relief and dread, but at least the rose garden was vibrant. He couldn’t think of conversation, but he soon saw he didn’t need to.

Kiku was absolutely taken with their blue roses.

He tentatively reached out to them when he saw them, the cool breeze of the outside greeting them as Arthur shut the door behind them. Kiku looked unbelievably young then, all cold, hard anger was gone. And in its place Arthur felt like he was seeing something strange and new. He had almost forgotten that before he was Queen, Kiku was himself just as Arthur was as well. The atmosphere of politics melted away and Kiku seemed more unguarded as he spoke.

“I had heard that these roses were only native to your country.” He confessed, “but this is my first time seeing it.”

It was like that in all the countries, Arthur thought to himself. Orange for Diamond, green for Club, red for Heart and so on. They bloom year around because of the magical influence. But he didn’t say this to Kiku because he felt as if he should watch his words for once. Try to be _civil_ for once.

“Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful.”

All at once, Arthur felt humbled and he couldn’t rightly say why. The sun was shining greatly above them, the summer air light and warm. The smell of roses surrounded them and Arthur felt he was in a dream. He felt some sort of defense fall. He felt something he couldn’t rightly describe, and it was strange to him as he tried to figure out the name for it.

“…When I was a child,” he began, “I got lost in the forests around my home.”

Kiku turned to look at him, but Arthur didn’t choose to meet his gaze. He’s never told this story directly to anyone. Of course, people knew but they never heard his side of the story. He wasn’t quite sure why he was now.

“It was winter. Snowing. I was an adventurous kid back then; wanted to discover everything. Hated being around others. I loved studying but I hated my teachers.”

Arthur touched one of the many roses, and felt a static of magic run through his arm. They knew who he was and they responded in kind.

“I used to do it so much, that they got used to me missing for hours. I thought I knew everything. But that evening everything looked different in the dark and I lost my way.”

“What did you do?”

“What any child would do,” Arthur smiled, “I cried and promised I would be good from now on if I found my way back home.”

Kiku chuckled softly to himself and Arthur liked how it sounded natural and real. He continued on, his fingers feeling the soft petals, his eyes avoiding Kiku.

“I came across a clearing of roses. They were wild and their thorns cut me as I walked through them, and it was too much. I cried out. I wanted help.”

Arthur stopped here. Here is where everyone else’s retelling changed. Here their eyes lit up and their voice became breathless like a follower speaking of their god. They described it with beautiful detail, hands stretched out like it was a miracle.

“And then the strangest thing happened. It was like something was forcing itself out of me.”

But Arthur never thought of it as a miracle. He just remembered being a scared little boy with bleeding legs and bleeding magic seeping from his body.

“It was an energy force or something. When they found me, I had cleared the entire spot, all the roses burnt and gone. That’s how they figured out I was a candidate.”

He was afraid to look at Kiku. He had forgotten for a moment he was there to entertain not confide, and Arthur was sorry he was never good with politics or social gatherings. He felt bitter at the situation and himself.

“You must’ve been scared.”

Arthur looked to him. He found Kiku still watching, considerate, and he was waiting for him to change the subject, to clear awkward air, but he didn’t. He waited. He wanted Arthur to speak.

“…It was. A-A little.” Arthur was scared, and drew back, “And you?”

“Me?”

“When did you awaken?”

Kiku paused, thoughtful. “I was four.” He began, “I was reading in the garden. I don’t remember much, except that I didn’t like what I was reading.”

He looks to the flowers again, eyes half-lidded, and there was something beautiful in the pose Arthur thought.

“I kept looking at the plants. Peonies, Chrysanthemums, Dogwood. I remember everything that was planted there. But the daffodils, I saw they were dying.”

And Arthur realized what he was feeling. This odd feeling he wasn’t used to, that he hadn’t felt in a long while, that was so foreign to him he had to take time to name it. Comfort. Around this person, he felt comfortable, relaxed, calm. Speaking to him as Arthur made him feel content and he wanted this dreamlike moment to never end.

“I revived them. The servants found me surrounded by overgrown daffodils. I didn’t know how to control it back then.” Kiku grinned to himself, amused, “I don’t even remember how I did it.”

Arthur paused. Tried to think of response, and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Do we have something with flowers or something?”

Kiku began to laugh, taken off guard and Arthur laughed with him, also surprised at himself. He felt proud, he felt loose.

“Perhaps you do.” Kiku smiled, holding back another laugh, “You killed yours.”

“I was scared!”

“I worry about these flowers now, please don’t hurt them.”

“Sorry, it’s already been done. I use them to cast a curse on your kingdom each night.”

“…I wouldn’t be surprised. There’ve been rumors.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows, looking at Kiku. He was expecting a snide look, but his face was only a soft smile, the friendly air still apparent. He played along.

“Really?”

And Kiku caught himself, remembering who he was with, and the implications of his words and casual tone. He looked sorry then, stuttered.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“No, it’s fine.” Arthur reassured him, “I’m not offended. I’m just curious.”

There was something in the easy way that Kiku slipped into apologizing, to the bowed head and uncomfortable look that made Arthur wonder if he did that a lot, and it worried him. But Kiku’s face softened and it slipped away.

“They say you cast curses on your enemies. You practice the dark arts and dance with demons every night.”

Arthur had to laugh. He _had_ to. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard and Kiku laughed with him, unbelieving and amused.

“Am I naked during it?” Arthur asked between laughs, and Kiku grinned, looking away.

“I don’t ask for that much information, Mr. Kirkland.”

“Oh good, they haven’t found out yet.”

And Kiku cracked up, doubling over, and Arthur felt his heart swell.

“They say things about you too.”

“Oh? Am I also bathing in the blood of my enemies?”

“No, but they say you’re condescending. You’re always laughing at people from behind your hand. You’re quiet and always judging others. You’re conceited.”

Kiku was smiling. Arthur realized he went into too much detail then, and was worried he may have offended him, but Kiku only shrugged to himself.

“I can see why people would think that way. I don’t blame them. What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you believe it?”

Arthur paused, considered the scene before, the scene now, the atmosphere and garden he didn’t want to leave. Kiku’s hands folded in front of himself, his calm, indecipherable expression. He felt vulnerable and honest then, and didn’t hold back.

“N-Not…really. I don’t get that feeling now.”

Kiku smiled wider, and Arthur had to look away because he was too embarrassed and mortified by this moment.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Kiku asked, the mood shifting, “All these rumors about us, all this silly propaganda.”

Arthur nodded, wanted to say something, wanted to keep going, wanted to open up but he wouldn’t even know where to start. It was something he wanted to talk about for so long he just never had the right partner. But here he was.

“It’s just…so strange. I’m here with you now and you’re nothing like they say.”

The gap he felt between his self and his title had always been there and he wanted to talk about it, but he choked. Just nodded again, muttering a “Me too.”

He was unused to this, it all felt so unstable, so Arthur blurted out the first thing that seemed right.

“T-To be honest,” he half-laughed as if to take the bite off his message, “sometimes I hate being the Queen.”

But to be honest, it was never sometimes, it was always and it was heavy and it was oppressive. Arthur didn’t mind practicing magic and he didn’t mind this country he just hated _everything else_ so much it was suffocating. Arthur doesn’t know what he was seeking out, but it wasn’t here and it wasn’t in a crown.

Kiku did not respond, and Arthur felt stupid then. He went too far and he said too much and he tried to think of a casual way to brush off his own words. To make it seem like it wasn’t as serious as it sounded and he wasn’t broken and that Kiku could leave without being the wiser. He wanted to take back the words. He regretted opening up in the first place and his face burned with shame.

But Kiku turned, and looked straight into his eyes. What was there stuck Arthur the most, because Kiku’s mysterious, bemused gaze was gone and it was filled with something so fragile and human.

Kiku looked lost and pleading.

“I thought I was the only one.”

And that’s when Arthur fell in love.

He didn’t name it at that moment. He didn’t even know what it was. As the Heartless Queen he had written off love long ago. His only partner could be Alfred; any room for anyone else was nonexistent. But it was the shock of finding someone who understood and knew and knowing he wasn’t alone.

But Arthur doesn’t know this now. Arthur can’t even speak. He’s so breathless and he’s trying to think of a million things to say when the doors burst open and the moment is gone. Alfred stands there, arms and smile wide, and it’s like he’s come to wake Arthur up.

“Kiku! Hey! Sorry for the wait!”

Everything came to a halt and Arthur cringed at the insultingly casual way he addressed Kiku. He saw Kiku’s face turn stern again, unpleased and offended.

“Your Highness,” he bowed, voice slipping back into something harder and stern. “I’ve been here for three hours.”

“Oh, was Arthur showing you around? That’s good.”

Arthur cringed more at Alfred’s dismissal but he couldn’t fault him. He’s done the same thing to the Heart servants. He suddenly regrets it. Alfred cuts to the chase then and offers to see Kiku now. Kiku agrees and he bids farewell to Arthur.

Arthur doesn’t want him to leave. Kiku is still smiling.

“I enjoyed my time here. We should do this again sometime.”

“K-Kiku.”

“Yes?”

Arthur struggles. He’s not even sure what he wants to say but he knows it’s a lot and he knows it means so much. He gulps and avoids Kiku’s eyes as he chokes out the only thing he can think of.

“You’re not the only one.”

Kiku tilts his head, eyes soft. He nods, and thanks him, and leaves.

And Arthur feels like something slipped from his fingers and he’s not sure what it is. But he wants it back and he wants to hold on tight. In the coming days he’s going to replay this moment in his mind more times than he can count, but it still won’t be enough.

He’s not even sure what it is.

* * *

 

Arthur knows what he was born to be. He knew it ever since it was announced he would be the new Queen.

The King and Queen of each country were meant to be the perfect pieces that united their kingdoms. Kings represented strength; Queens represented harmony. A King was meant to feel the health of his land and take all blows and the Queen’s heart decided its health and nursed it back when it got too sick. Jacks were the advisors that looked over the relationship between King and Queen and to make sure their union was one of goodwill and peace.

Arthur knew what it really meant however, without all the pretty symbolism. King’s felt the pain of the land; any significant blow that happened there happened to them. If crops failed or if storms damaged the land, the King would physically feel it. And Queen’s harnessed magic and it was their hearts and feelings that determined the course of the land. If the Queen was unhappy with their King, the climate will show it. If they lived in perfect union, the land would show that too. It was all strangely interweaved, all chosen by magic, and by this the monarchs were directly and spiritually linked to their county.

So Arthur knew if he wanted his country to prosper, he would have to have a good relationship with Alfred. He was chosen after all; he had been crowned. What comforts him is that the relationship does not have to be strictly romance.

As long as there’s a good relationship, then the land would prosper. He could already see this in the Diamond kingdom; Francis and Lily’s relationship were like a brother and sister. He respected her; she looked up to him. Alfred and Arthur were raised together; they were more like siblings than anything else. And in the Heart kingdom Ludwig and Kiku were so like-minded they were almost on the same wavelength.

Yet if one could look at the Clover kingdom they could see the backfire to this idea. Elizaveta was in love with their Jack, Roderich, and not Ivan. As a result, their land remained in harsh winter, still the loser of the last Duel.

This is what annoys Arthur the most. He doesn’t need to love Alfred, and yet he’s not allowed to love anybody else lest he ruins the kingdom. He found the system faulty and unfair. With slim options like this, what other choice _could_ he have?

Not to mention, that if King and Queen did engage in a romantic relationship, it would spell an unprecedented age of peace for their kingdom. However, any instance of this has only been recorded twice. It was rare to think of. And yet Arthur feels the pressure anyhow.

They call him the Heartless Queen because he doesn’t want to love Alfred. He makes this abundantly clear. He could never see Alfred as anything other than the little boy he grew up with, so the idea of forcing themselves to be something more utterly disgusted him.

(Alfred stays happily out of these talks. The kingdom is doing fine, he says, what would we need romance for?)

So Arthur, gruff and angry and sick of the pressure, swore off love and earned himself the nickname. It’s whispered behind his back and thrown in his face. He finds the whole system broken and unfair. Why must it be the Queen solely that the nature of the kingdom depends on? Why does the Queen’s heart have to have so much weighed on it? It was ridiculous. Arthur shared a partial love for his kingdom, but he hated how much it chained him.

He had only been a boy lost in the forest at one time. He had only been scared. But here he is.

He’s lying awake in his bed and he’s turning these thoughts over and over again in his mind. The Heart Kingdom was avoiding financial topics again. They visited yesterday and once again Arthur took the time to talk with Kiku. They didn’t even pick up on their last conversation, but talked about the weather, about their Kings, about their lives. Kiku prefers autumn. He’s looking forward to the harvest festival in their kingdom soon. He’s hoping Feliciano can find time for him and Ludwig to participate in the festivities. Arthur is wishing him the best.

He wants to go with him.

It was odd to him, how there was always a tense air whenever news came that the Heart kingdom would visit. Yet no matter what Arthur felt like a child before their birthday, and impatiently awaited their arrival. His heart fell if it was not Kiku, but it sang when it was him. Things were getting worse and yet their rapport was better than anything.

(They always kept the politics separate, and that’s just how both of them wanted it.)

So Arthur wonders why he’s remembering his status and the rules he must follow. He wonders why he feels sick to the stomach when he does. Kiku keeps appearing in his dreams and he’s scared to know why.

Arthur closes his eyes. Falls asleep. In the dream, he’s answered when Kiku appears again. They eat apples in the garden and talk about nonsense and when Kiku leans over and kisses him, Arthur doesn’t fight back.

They fall back and the rest was ecstasy.

* * *

Kiku cannot sleep.

He stares blearily out of the window, and he feels he should sleep. But there’s so much weighing on his conscious, and his shoulders feel tense. He looks down to the book he was reading but it’s dull and it feels as if its cornering him. He has other things to do and they’re nagging him at the back of his mind, so he closes the book. He pulls his coat closer to himself, and decides to do something about this. The anxious thoughts buzz through his mind, a dull ache, and they turn over and over again as he walks down the halls of the palace.

When he was crowned he did not expect to inherit all the stresses of his predecessors. He didn’t think they’d leave _so_ _much_. There was so much tension with the Spade kingdom, there were so many webs already spun. They mined so much of their material, because the Diamond kingdom had rights to the Clover kingdoms imports, but of course the Heart kingdom didn’t allow this, so they charged more, but then that was a problem and so on…not to mention they keep building their army for god knows what reason, but they sure weren’t telling them and it was all an awkward dance of avoidance and empty promises and Kiku—

Kiku has arrived at Ludwig’s study. His head is spinning but he rights himself, and just as he thought, Ludwig was still there in the late hours, working. He looks up, eyebrows raised. There are dark circles under his eyes, but that’s nothing new.

“Kiku,” he speaks, sitting up, all attention to Kiku now, “is something wrong? It’s late. You should get sleep, it’s good for your health.”

Kiku almost smiles. There was a clear contradiction in Ludwig’s words and actions, but that’s just how it was. Ludwig was dependable that way, in how he never changed his actions. Kiku already felt comforted by his presence.

“I can’t sleep. My apologies.” He bows his head a bit, “May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course. Take a seat.”

Kiku does, directly in front of Ludwig’s desk. It felt strictly professional and this worries Kiku. He’s sure unions shouldn’t be like this, or at least it should change…

“The Spade Kingdom.” He begins, and already he sees Ludwig’s frown deepen. It’s been a distressing matter for both of them. “How do you feel about them?”

The only sound in the room is the cuckoo clock on the wall. It ticks on, and Ludwig turns his attention back to his paperwork, places his pen back in the ink stand. He crosses his arms on the desk and looks down at all the papers, examining their words. He lets out a sigh.

“I believe they have a good work ethic and are revolutionary in their inventions. The time and effort they put into their works, as well as the precision, is admirable.”

“Ludwig-san,” Kiku chides, “I mean the current situation.”

Ludwig is silent. He’s not angry, but he is thoughtful.

“I’m sorry to say, but it looks like agreement between our nations is impossible. I fear war is imminent.”

Kiku doesn’t stiffen and he looks down to the paperwork with Ludwig, reading over potential laws and decisions. He’s not surprised, and there’s only the solemn feeling of something that must be done. In their kingdoms, there had always been a sort of test for each of them to go through with each set of monarch. It was not intentional, but it was more like a fate they could never avoid. Long ago, people decided to call it The Duel. Without fail, two opposing kingdoms will fall into some sort of rivalry or war. Victory is assured on the connection between King and Queen, and the victor always experiences a wonderful time of peace and bounty. It was too repetitive to call it a coincidence, and yet the kingdoms could never rightly say what will cause it or how. They can only know it will happen.

Kiku feels it is happening now.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Kiku confesses, and trails off. He’s not sure what else to say, but he has the small inkling that he should look in Ludwig’s eyes now. If any time, it should be now.

“Are you scared?” Ludwig asks, looking up at him. Kiku doesn’t return his gaze, and shakes his head.

“No. I believe I was prepared for this a while ago.”

“They’ve been courteous to you, but it means nothing if they don’t meet us halfway at least.”

Kiku chuckles bitterly. “No, that’s not entirely true. Alfred has been very neglectful of me. It’s only Arthur that’s been kind.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kiku finally looks up, and he tries to find the beauty in Ludwig’s blue eyes, but he only finds them tired and stern. He finds himself wanting to comfort him but not in the way he feels he should.

“For what?”

“You’ve been…” Ludwig clears his throat, and he’s trying to muster a caring tone, Kiku can tell, “stressed lately. I’ve seen it. I know it’s not my fault, but I feel as if I should apologize.”

Kiku is touched. He reaches out, and touches Ludwig’s hand. It’s cold, and Ludwig tenses a bit.

“At our coronation, I made a promise to dedicate myself to this kingdom. I intend to keep doing that.”

Ludwig closes his hand over Kiku’s and his eyes waver. His hold is weak, but he squeezes and he nods to himself anyway.

“I wish to do the same. It was inevitable; I just didn’t think the Duel would start so soon.”

Kiku’s heart hurts a little, but he doesn’t let go, and he doesn’t think about all the things Ludwig could’ve said. He doesn’t think of his duty and what needs to be done and how he wishes he could give more, but seems as if he can’t. He refuses to let go of Ludwig’s hand and tries to keep the moment going as long as it could.

“There’s no helping it. We should prepare accordingly. That is,” he gulps, “if there is anything you need from me, please don’t hesitate to ask. I want to do all I can.”

Ludwig and him work so well together. He knows what people say, and he knows how reliable they are in that regard. Even without Feliciano’s influence, they work on the same wavelength, never missing a beat, always having each other’s back.

Yet, there are drawbacks. Kiku sees that. Ludwig’s face is stern again, and he lets go of Kiku’s hand.

“Kiku, I don’t want you to force anything. I don’t want you doing anything you don’t wish to do.”

He hears what he’s saying of course. Kiku is excellent at reading in between the lines, and he looks down, ashamed and embarrassed.

“I wouldn’t be forcing anything.”

“I-“ Ludwig stops. Sighs. He gets up then, and Kiku feels so small in front of his tall form. Ludwig walks around the desk, and Kiku feels his heart stop when he leans down.

He places a light kiss on his cheek. Kiku closes his eyes, and tries to make it something, and he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. He just knows it.

“Kiku,” Ludwig whispers, voice husky and sad, “go back to bed. Get some sleep.”

Kiku frowns, lump forming in his throat. He nods wordlessly. The fact that Ludwig holds the door open for him is comforting, but the walk back is lonely and cold.

There’s a hole in his chest that feels empty and painful. There’s so much that doesn’t feel enough and he wants to do so much more. He wishes he could. The pressure that sits on his shoulders gets heavier and he’s reminded of a warm rose garden, a confession.

He lets the memory go.

On his way there, he sees Feliciano at the end of the hall. He hums a happy tune and as soon as he sees Kiku he smiles and waves at him, walking faster to meet him.

“Kiku! You’re up so late! Did you get hungry?” he seems lively, despite the dark halls of the castle, “I was actually headed to the kitchens myself, do you want to come?”

Kiku feels himself smile. It puzzled everyone in court how he was able to get his position (as becoming a Jack was more of applying for it then being chosen as the monarchs were.) But Feliciano helped balance them out, and cheer them up. He was not hard working or strict, but he was just what they needed.

“No. I was just headed to bed.Thank you for your offer however.” Kiku looks downward, frowning. “May I ask you a question, however?”

“Of course! Do you want me to bring something for you too?”

“No.” Kiku looks back up, serious, “Do you believe…what I mean to say is, do you believe I’m doing all I can for this nation?”

Feliciano looked confused, as if Kiku had asked the most obvious question in the world. He blinked, and answered in a way Kiku was expecting.

“Of course you are! Kiku you’re the best Queen we could want! You always finish your paperwork, and you train so diligently, and you don’t even skip meetings.”

“As a Jack, however, do you feel I’m enough?”

“Did someone say something, Kiku?”

Kiku stops and tries to think of something to say. He realizes there’s no way to properly explain himself in this subject, and shakes his head. He offers  reassuring smile, and looks away.

“No. It’s nothing. If you excuse me.”

Feliciano tries to call out for him, but Kiku does not turn to look back. There’s still the anxiety of his worth sitting in his stomach and despite reassurances he still feels he’s enough. He wants to fulfill his duties and what he’s been born into. He always feels like he can do so much better. He cannot find him content with what he has and so Kiku remains stressed.

He wishes he could believe Feliciano’s words, but somehow he’s still not satisfied.

* * *

Arthur paced the floor a twenty-third time, checking the clock a fiftieth time, and wondered what was taking them so long for the hundredth time. Alfred’s chattering pounded in his ears as his anxiety grew.

“So, I told them, y’know, what if we added cannons to the side? And they’re telling me, cannons? We already have that, but who has ever complained about a warship with too much artillery, yeah?”

“Alfred.”

“So I draw up the blueprints. All their eyes light up. And I know, I tell them, this is why you need to invite me to your meetings more.”

“ _Alfred_.”

“I know, I know. ‘How did you get to be so cool’?”

“ _I don’t care_.”

“Arthur!” he called out, stopping his clipped walk, earning Arthur’s attention, “C’mon, this is the best new invention our kingdom has seen! We’re going to blow everybody out of the water with this!”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, looking into the bright, sparkling eyes of his King, unamused, unimpressed, and uncaring. Obviously, Alfred didn’t catch onto this, still waiting for Arthur’s proper reaction. It never came.

“Those reports.” Arthur said slowly, “Did you do them.”

It wasn’t so much a question, as it was a reminder. Alfred’s face fell, all joy gone, and he turned pale. “Which reports?”

“The ones that accompany each meeting. Your side of them. And the new proposed laws we’ve been putting off because you’ve been puttering away at your workbench.”

Alfred gulped loudly, and Arthur watched him smile awkwardly, eyes avoiding his. “I was just gonna get to those.”

Arthur wondered when ‘babysitter’ became an informal part of his duties as Queen or if that was always an unspoken part of his position. Alfred was a gear-head to the end, and he loved inventing more than he did politics and talk and actually being a King. He was about to scold him, until the door to the study open. They had arrived.

And Arthur forgot all past stress.

All worries of what could’ve held them up, all worries of what to say or do, all worries of anything really fell away. He should’ve felt ashamed for getting so excited, but it was as if the world lit up, as if the room got brighter, and he wanted to see him.

Arthur didn’t feel ashamed. He thought it was ridiculous to be ashamed of what made him happy.

He barely heard Yao prepping them for the meeting. He didn’t see the solemn look on the advisor’s faces. He didn’t notice all the clues around him until he saw Kiku himself. He avoided Arthur’s gaze, he looked uncomfortable, he was just as he was when Arthur first saw him in the study.

And the more the meeting went on, the more he realized why and Arthur felt the world fall underneath him. The words of We can’t do that and I’m sorry but how could you. So many accusations, so much arguing. Kiku remained quiet. Arthur hated how he held onto Ludwig’s arm, and he wasn’t sure if it was to support him or himself.

And the final word rang through Arthur’s ears and he felt dizzy.

_War._

The Duel begun.

What hurt the most that Arthur didn’t even have the chance to talk to Kiku in private, because he had stormed out with the rest of their revenue. He almost called out.

He should’ve called out.

* * *

Kiku keeps himself busy with talks about strategies and ideas. In private he tries to be a Queen to Ludwig but is refused. This is what he was born to be and he feels he’s failing at it.

This is all they would need to win and if they wanted him to hand his heart over on a silver platter he would.

He doesn’t want to, but he would.

When Kiku goes to bed or goes to practice his magic, he feels his stomach turn in knots. The quiet fills him in with the anxiety he’s been trying to keep away. He wishes he had stayed longer.

Arthur had been so kind. He wished he had the chance to say sorry.

* * *

It was decided that the best tactic was to form alliances now; strike while the iron was still hot. And so Arthur proposed the Diamond kingdom as it was well-equipped and would likely remember their alliance in the previous Duel. He was sent to ask for help, and while Arthur personally despised the King, even he knew when to let bygones be bygones. The kingdom was gorgeous and gaudy as always, and while Arthur had prepared for all of this, he wasn’t prepared to see Kiku there as well.

Seeing him in the waiting room made his heart drop.

Kiku took a moment to look over him as well, but he was more composed and cold.. He did a solemn bow of the head, his voice a monotone outsider. “Your Majesty,” he spoke, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Arthur gulped, and tried to think of what to say. The way he addressed him formally felt as if he had put a barrier up. The fact that as enemies they were here now was shocking enough. Of course, Kiku could do nothing. This was neutral land. That’s not how a war was fought.

“Y-You’re here to see Francis as well?”

“His Highness, yes. I’m sorry to say he’s been taking some time however.”

“Yeah, he’s always been late to meetings.”

Kiku says nothing in response, and the conversation dies away awkwardly. Arthur looks to the gilded clock in the decorated waiting room, and then back at Kiku. Composed, sitting tall, ignoring him. He could’ve been a statue to him. Arthur shifts awkwardly, until he decides to take a seat on one of the plush couches. The clock continues to tick and he has so much to say but he’s not sure where to start. He’s not sure he’s even allowed.

“H-Have you been well?” He asks plainly.

“I’ve been fine.”

“When was the last time we saw each other? Three months now?”

“I think so, yes.”

Arthur takes in a deep breath. It stops him then, how much he’s watching himself, how much he’s thinking about this. It’s just all so different to him. He wants Kiku to say something, to reach out, he’s desperately wanting a connection between them. It didn’t even have to be romantic, just anything other than what they had now.

Another few minutes pass, and Arthur keeps looking to the clock and to the space above Kiku’s ahead. Letting go of the anxiety, he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

“You’d think hopping from the pond to here would be easy for a frog.”

He’s about to die from embarrassment, barrage himself with a million questions of _what the hell was that_ , until…

Kiku snorts.

He quickly catches himself, and composes himself again, sitting straight but with a tint of red to his cheeks. Arthur feels his heart sing at the reaction he was able to get, and there’s a small glimpse of what they had in that moment alone.

“Y-Your Majesty,” Kiku coughs, “it’s not polite to speak that way.”

“It’s only true. Maybe he’s dining on fine flies or something.”

Kiku is obviously laughing but he’s trying to hide it behind a sleeve. It’s a futile attempt, but an admirable one. Kiku looks to Arthur, and he’s hiding a smile. Arthur’s heart jumps, and Kiku is about to say something in return, but the door opens.

The moment is gone, and Arthur’s heart sinks again. Kiku is back to being the composed Queen. Francis stands at the doorway, obnoxious handsomeness blaring as always. Vash stands at his side, frowning and at attention.

“My apologies for the wait.” He strides in, and Arthur holds back a biting reply. As childhood friends he had earned the privilege of insulting the King. Yet, here in front of the enemy, even he knew there was no room for chit chat. The pleasantries are exchanged and Francis takes a seat adjacent of both of them. He sits with a casual air, and Arthur already knows the answer to his kingdom’s question. The way Francis had set this up, and the way he held himself; it had already been decided from the start.

What he wasn’t prepared for was Kiku’s question. His eyes are unsure when he asks, also perturbed by the situation, but he asks anyway. His kingdom is also looking for support from the Diamond kingdom.

Francis smiles like a god, and Arthur knows his answer to both of their requests.

“We’re very grateful for the help your kingdoms have given to us. We’re forever in your debt. Yet, because of the circumstances I’m sorry to say we’re in a bind. So, both Lily and I have decided…the Diamond kingdom shall remain neutral.”

Arthur winces in pain. Yao and Alfred are not going to like this. And this will just make things more difficult in the long run. Kiku only bows his head and tells him he’s sorry to hear that.

But of course Arthur knows they’re just protecting their own hides and protecting their winnings. It was all so hypocritical, but Arthur hates politics as is so he doesn’t dwell on it. Instead he gives the response he knows he’s supposed to give and say that’s too bad but thank you for taking the time to see him.

Francis tries to patch it up by offering to let them stay in the Diamond kingdom for the night. He’s already had rooms prepared for them. Arthur’s mind starts to reel then, and he agrees instantly.

He’s relieved when Kiku does too, and he feels a glimmer of hope then.

* * *

He had been planning to simply spend his evening alone in the room he had been offered. To plan how to break the news to Ludwig and Feliciano, and how to plan for this drawback. However, now he was in a bind.

Kiku was already feeling conflicted before he received the invitation from Arthur. Getting that just added onto it as now he had to make a decision rather than just sitting with these feelings and ignoring them altogether. He looks to the expectant Spade servant dressed in blue and chokes on his own words.

“I-I’m sorry,” Kiku stutters out, looking out from the crack of his bedroom door, “I don’t believe I heard that right. Can you repeat it again?”

“His Majesty would like to have you over for a cup of tea in his room.”

Kiku felt dizzy. He was simultaneously flushed, happy, and conflicted. He wanted to think Arthur was a sound and sane person, so this must be something about the conflict between their lands. But a small part of him wanted it to be just tea. Just talk. Just them.

He tries to shush the butterflies in his stomach.

Of course, Kiku knows better. The tea could be poisoned. There could be an assassin. This may be the last night of his life if he goes over. Yes, the Diamond kingdom was a neutral zone where neither party could act but when has politics ever followed the rules?

But Arthur had cracked a joke earlier. He made him laugh. It was like they were in the rose garden again and Kiku feels ashamed to admit it, but he misses that.

He wants to see him as himself again.

But there’s a war, he tells himself. A war! That wasn’t something you could just ignore so you could go have a cup of tea with someone else. It shouldn’t be treated so lightly, but Kiku thinks about what Arthur’s doing. Of course he knows the situation as well (he’s here for a reason), but he invited him out anyway.

Was Arthur incredibly smug, or incredibly stupid?

The servant is still looking at him. Kiku has to answer. He’s about to say no, because that’s the right thing to do, because he’s the Queen of Hearts before he’s Kiku, but the word yes falls out of his lips.

He’d love to have tea with Arthur.

There’s a twinge of guilt, but there’s more happiness. Eagerness. Impatient bliss. The butterflies in Kiku’s stomach are fluttering even more now, and he fixes his hair as he’s guided to Arthur’s room.

(Of course he’s accompanied by his personal guard, but he orders them to wait outside the room because he doesn’t want to send the wrong message.)

When the door is open for him, he smells the tea first. It’s a spiced blend and he’s instantly reminded of all those warm afternoons. Arthur never served him the same tea twice.

And there was Arthur, looking to him, eyes wide. The lamplight of his room lit him up wonderfully, and it amazed Kiku just how lovely he looked.

Lovely? Kiku dared himself to look away. Arthur’s coat hung near the door on a coat rack, and Kiku examined the Spade pattern on it, reminding himself. He was the Queen of Spades first. There was a war. He had a _duty_.

“Your Majesty,” Kiku hears himself say, “Good evening. May I ask why you called me here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Kiku’s breath catches in his throat because he can’t believe how reckless Arthur is being. How careless. The innocent tone in his voice let Kiku know he definitely wasn’t being smug. It really was just stupidity in the end.

“You saw me earlier today.”

“Not like _that_. I just…” Arthur sighed loudly, “Kiku. Won’t you take a seat?”

Kiku paused. Considered.

Found himself sitting adjacent from him, the spicy scent even stronger, the smile on Arthur’s face such a tired relief, Kiku almost worried about him. He folded his hands in his lap, and watched as Arthur poured the tea. It then occurred to him the reason to use such a strong tea; it can cover other scents. It could be poisoned. He watched the teacup placed in front of him, but he couldn’t see anything in it. Across from him, Arthur sipped his own brew and Kiku spoke.

“Let me drink yours.”

Arthur looked startled. “I’m sorry?”

“I want to try yours.”

“It’s the same tea; I just poured mine before you got here.”

“Let me try yours.”

Arthur paused. He looked slightly hurt, but wordlessly handed the cup to Kiku. Kiku, his gaze never leaving Arthur’s, took a sip. It was hot and spiced and it filled him to his core. He then realized the indirect kiss he had initiated, but before he could get embarrassed, Arthur spoke.

“It wasn’t poisoned.”

Kiku doesn’t know what to say. He just keeps his gaze leveled, and he feels a little guilty but doesn’t show it.

“Is that what you thought this was?” Arthur continues.

“We’re at war.” Kiku retorts, “Can you blame me?”

“That’s not why I asked you here!” Arthur sounds hurt, and he frowns, “I just wanted to talk.”

“We can’t ignore what’s happening between our countries.”

“I just thought for a moment we could go back to how it was. Just…didn’t you miss it too?”

He did. Kiku missed talking with Arthur, because with Arthur he didn’t have to think about what he said. He didn’t have to feel like he had to be the perfect Queen, and he didn’t have to worry about appearances or protocol because Arthur didn’t. And Kiku liked following his lead. Their talks had no strings attached and Kiku wasn’t used to that, but he knew he loved it.

For now however, he places Arthur’s cup back onto its saucer. A light clink sits between them as Kiku slowly withdraws his hand.

“I do. But unfortunately that’s impossible for us now.”

A silence settles between them and Kiku waits for Arthur to say something back, to get angry or indignant. But he doesn’t, and Kiku doesn’t dare to look at him because his heart is already wavering and he can’t risk falling. He looks down to his own filled teacup and there’s a part of him that is aching to stay. He sits up, trying to act before he gets comfortable, before he gives in.

“If that’s all you wanted, I’m sorry to say but I’ll have to excuse myself-“

“Wait.”

The voice is so weak, Kiku’s heart almost breaks. Without thinking, he looks to Arthur who’s made himself smaller in his seat. He’s hunched and looking down, and his face is so fragile and on the verge of tears. This wasn’t him, and he knows it.

“I…just. A little longer. Just stay a little longer, please. After you hear what I have to say, I promise I won’t bother you again.”

Kiku wants to reach out. Without considering Arthur’s words, there’s already a pain in his chest, because he wants to comfort him, but he can’t. He didn’t want it to be this way, and it’s as if there’s an audience watching him. He’s fully aware of his own actions, watches what he says and does with a critical eye but he wants to do away with that pressure. He wants to reach out to Arthur. He doesn’t want to see him cry.

This is why Kiku sits back down, and tells himself that he will listen and do nothing else. He is the Queen before anything else and he will work within those boundaries as much as he can. Arthur meets his gaze, and Kiku isn’t sure what to say. There are so many things he wants to say to this weak form, but he’s not allowed.

“Thank you.”

Kiku doesn’t respond, and Arthur accepts this, continuing.

“I…I hadn’t planned to get right to this. I thought we could at least catch up or talk, but I see that’s not possible. I’ll just get right to the point.”

Arthur sits up straighter, his voice gaining power.

“When we first met, I told you I didn’t like being Queen. I still don’t. I think this entire system is unfair. Our Kings are allowed to love and do as they please, and yet it’s us Queens whose entire hearts and beings must be sacrificed for the country. It’s horribly biased and for a long time I tried to bottle up anything I had in me. It’s our only option in this position.”

Kiku feels the world recede around him. He’s hanging on every word Arthur says and it’s as if he’s reading his very soul, and putting them in the right words. He feels an overwhelming sense of relief.

“I thought I didn’t have it in me to love anymore. I thought all the walls I put up were exactly what I needed. I was _angry_ and I was _sad_. But then…”

He trails off. Kiku finally notices Arthur’s shaking hands, and he wants to grab them, he wants their warmth against him, and these needs surprise him. Arthur was so fragile and open and Kiku wanted to show him it was ok.

“I met you.”

And Kiku’s breath stopped.

“And I know it’s wrong and impossible, but I don’t care anymore.”

His heart is hammering in his chest.

“I love you, Kiku. I finally know what love is, and I don’t want to let it go.”

Kiku feels like he’s about to faint, and he tries to compose himself but it was all so sudden he could barely form the right thoughts. Several thousand thoughts swam in his head and two voices spoke and one was the Queen and one was Kiku.

The Queen was louder, and Kiku spoke their words first.

“We’re at war.”

“I know that. I’m fully aware, but I love you.”

“We could ruin our own countries.”

“I know.”

Kiku tried to catch his breath, and he tried to think of his next objection, but Arthur leaned forward, his eyes kind.

“I wanted you to know. You don’t have to accept; I just wanted you to know.”

The Queen became enraged.

“Then why tell me?” Kiku shot back, angry. “By telling me you’re already putting me in a corner. I can’t be with you! I can’t simply run away! I have a whole country to consider; to sacrifice all of them on a whim, that’s impossible! I have a King-“

“Kiku.”

“They need me. I can’t fail them now, I’m sorry. I have a duty to uphold, I-“

“Kiku, all I’m hearing is what they want from you.”

Kiku stops, and he didn’t realize Arthur was still reading him. He almost doesn’t want to listen because he’s tried so hard not to give it a voice, but he listens anyway out of morbid curiosity.

“You’re always like this! You’re always worried what _they_ want, what you _need_ to do. But when has it been for you? When have you asked what you want?”

Kiku stops, breath catching in his throat. It’s always been there under the surface but this is the first time it’s been said out loud and he doesn’t know how to ignore it; he can’t run away this time. Automatically, he lies as he always does.

“This is what I want. Being their Queen is what I’ve always wanted.”

“When we first met, you told me you hated being Queen.”

Kiku simultaneously hates and is so relieved how Arthur remembers this. He wants him to stop reading his soul. He wants him to keep going.

“Just for once, Kiku,” Arthur’s voice echoes through his head, “tell me what you want. Not your country. Not what you think _I_ want. Just you.”

Kiku feels sinfully special, he feels humbled, he closes his eyes. He can’t think of anything to say because it’s been quite awhile since he was ever asked that. He can’t even remember the last time he asked himself that. He knows Arthur is watching him, and the first thing he wants is for Arthur to say he loves him again.

Because pushing aside all the duty and responsibility he realizes he’s happy he’s been confessed to.

He’s happy it’s Arthur.

He wants him to keep going.

He wants him to say it a thousand times more until Kiku dissolves into happy tears and he wants to close the space between them, and tell him-

Kiku stops. The fear strikes again, and his stomach throbs with anxiety. He needs to stop. He meets Arthur’s gaze and there’s worry in his eyes. Kiku has no idea what sort of emotion he’s displaying, but it’s enough to shock Arthur.

“…I enjoy your company. I admire you.” He gulps, “But I can’t forget who I am.”

Arthur’s eyes dim, and Kiku knows he’s gone back to his old ways. But it’s so much easier like this. It’s just as he’s supposed to be. Yet Arthur is not so easy to shake off.

“Are you happy like this?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you happy like this? Saying what they want you to say?”

How was he so good with words? Arthur used them like they were weapons and Kiku felt disarmed. He hesitated, and with no better option, he decided to retreat. Kiku stood up, shaking the plates as he did.

“Thank you for your words. However, I’m sorry to say I can’t return your feelings. I’ll pretend this conversation never happened for both of our sakes.”

And Kiku thought that was it and that he could walk away, that the pain would lessen with each step. But Arthur grabs his arm before he can leave, and his grasp sends electricity through Kiku’s body. Their breathing is heavy, the air is tense, and they wait.

“…I won’t let go. I love you and I’m not letting go of these feelings I have.”

His grip lessened.

“I don’t care if you’re my enemy. I love you, Kiku. And I’ll keep telling you until I get your answer.”

“I already answered.”

“Not the Queen’s answer. _Yours_.”

He lets go. Kiku almost turns around, but he swallows it all down, and keeps looking ahead.

“…Good night, Arthur.” He mustered out, and walked out of there with a clipped walk, telling himself over and over again to not look behind him. He waved away the servant offering him to take him back. Kiku wanted to be alone now more than anything. Thoughts and feelings swirled around in his mind, taking turns having his full attention. Try as he might, Kiku was not able to sleep well that evening. He wouldn’t even have the chance to see Arthur in the morning, for he will find out the Spade entourage left earlier than them.

But Kiku dreams about walking the halls of the Spade castle. He dreams about locking the door to Alfred’s room and finding Arthur sleeping like a martyr. When he stirs him awake, Arthur smiles. He lets Kiku sink into the bed with him, his arms are warm, his voice makes Kiku smile.

Kiku dreams about kissing him deeper and deeper, on his neck and his face and his lips. He dreams about drowning in his embrace and feeling the world was right here in his arms, in his heated whispers, in his soft lips. Kiku dreams of making Arthur his.

And in the morning, he will hate himself for it.

* * *

 

In times of war, there is a small group of neutral mercenaries that both sides can use in times of need. The Jokers have been there since the beginning of the Duels. They’re war orphans and defectors, they’re willing to do any work as long as the price matches. Their lips will always be sealed as to who hired them, and they are expendable wild cards. It’s seen as low to use them as a resource, but they’ve always been used nonetheless. It’s war after all.

Gilbert had worked through the ranks, and he was expecting to be summoned as soon as he heard the news. He didn’t think he’d be a _delivery boy_ however.

Gilbert leans against the desk casually, examining the letter in his hands, turns it over. It has weight to it. He casts an incredulous look to the Queen.

“You want me to send a letter to Kiku?” He asks again, “Not, oh I don’t know. Murder him.”

“We don’t always need you for assassination. “ Arthur retorts, turning back to his desk, placing the pen back in its stand. He turns back in his seat sharply, continuing  to level his gaze at Gilbert with a wary, but attempted bravado. “All I want is for you to promise me that you will deliver that letter without anyone being the wiser. Got it?”

Gilbert stares for a moment, wondering if Arthur was stupid, or just conceited. “It’s easy enough, but I can’t help but wonder what the Queen of Spades could possibly need from his enemy.”

"I thought your kind didn’t ask questions."

"I’m different." he grins. "Indulge me."

Arthur rolls his eyes in a quaint and unfashionable way. He turns back in his seat, re-arranging papers as if the action would lessen the tension. Gilbert tries to charm the answer out of him anyway, because the job also came with backstabbing and here was a perfect chance to get dirt on him.

"All I’m saying, if it’s a threat you may as well do him in now. I know there’s a reason you called me specifically. You want whatever this is to be done perfectly."

"Big ego, isn’t that?"

Gilbert ignores him. “C’mon, Arthur. Why send a letter?”

Arthur is quiet for a moment, and Gilbert feels like he’s finally convinced him. He’s waiting for Arthur to spill it all, but instead Arthur turns back around in his chair sharply, giving the glare of a killer.

"Deliver that letter." he orders, "And don’t you dare read it. If I found you did, I’ll have you executed without a moment’s hesitation."

He turns back around, and that was the end of that. Gilbert slumped his shoulders, like a dog denied a treat.

* * *

 

When Gilbert delivers the letter, he expects Kiku to give him more information. What Gilbert gets is a treasure trove of it, without him having to even say a word.

It was the way he widened his eyes. The way he held his hand out shakily for the letter. The way he tried to stay composed as he read it, but failed miserably as his face became flush, the way he brought his hand to his mouth. Gilbert was good at reading people, and Kiku was giving him the whole goddamn novel. He calmed himself, and looked to Gilbert who was still sitting at his bedroom window in the dead of night. The moon shone behind him, and Kiku thought of him as a demon in that setting, in that image. The temptation was literally being offered to him.

"Did he say anything else?" Kiku asked with a whisper. Gilbert shrugged casually, as if this was just another job for him, hiding his enthusiasm in an uncaring way.

"Nah, he wouldn’t tell me anything. Just deliver the letter, won’t even tell me what’s in it! Can you believe it?"

Kiku doesn’t bite, and only folds the letter and places it in his sleeve. His eyes are downcast, and he speaks low.

"Please tell him I’m very happy to receive the letter," Kiku tells him, a hand on his sleeve where the letter sits, "but I can’t respond."

Gilbert deflates a bit. There was juicy information here and he couldn’t partake. It was excruciating.

* * *

 

Kiku could’ve used this to his advantage, he knows that. Show the letters to Ludwig, use it to cause discord in the Spade court, cast Queen against King and win an easy battle. But Kiku knows Arthur, and he knows he’s considered this. He trusts him. If it had only been love, Kiku wouldn’t have hesitated. But when it’s trust, it’s just so much harder to shake.

It was that, as well as the content of the letters themselves. It would be hard to even call them scandalous, because Arthur was speaking as if Kiku was there and there was no war between them.

He writes about how much he misses him. He tells him about his day, and his interests, and asks about Kiku’s own. He draws sometimes, the scenery and thoughts. Sometimes he sends little trinkets: a pendant, a bookmark, dried flower petals. Small things that were sentimental and worthless. But so lovely, Kiku thinks, so beautiful.

Arthur was baring his soul to Kiku, and he was politely asking for the same. Little by little, he sent small parts of himself in envelopes and Kiku read each one with care. He’s considered burning them, without even seeing the contents, but the thought alone makes Kiku’s heart ache. He’s being selfish, he knows. But he avoids the thought so he can continue indulging himself.

Kiku thought he’d give up after the first five rejections, but he continues. He asks about him. He hopes he’s getting enough sleep. He hopes Kiku is doing well and that if he needs anything, he’ll always listen. He’d never tell his secrets; he loves him too much to.

Kiku reasoned perhaps he’s trying to seduce him. Maybe he’s working under the orders of Alfred. But that thought and distrust also hurts Kiku’s heart and so he’s done away with the thought long ago.

Kiku keeps the letters in a drawer of his desk, tied with a blue ribbon. It lays beneath many other papers, barely noticeable, and yet kept safe. Sometimes if Kiku is having a stressful day, KIku re-reads them, and tries not to feel guilty for it.

"If you want," Gilbert offers one day, "I can just throw them out as soon as he gives them to me. It’ll cost you, though."

Kiku only gives him a quizzical look, and Gilbert clarifies, motioning to the letter in Kiku’s hand. “Because you keep rejecting them. If it’s that much of an eyesore, just give the order.”

"They’re not a bother." Kiku says instantly, an edge of offense in his tone. Gilbert puts his hands up as if in surrender.

"Doesn’t look like it to me, but alright. Your choice."

Kiku places them with the rest, and he knows he must make a choice. But he tries to be young, and continues to waver as if he had all the time in the world.

* * *

 

Arthur sits at his desk, writing, the candlelight flickering to his left, the scratching of his pen echoing in the room. He looks up from his letter and watches the clouds pass by the moon, and hears the distant clang of armor as the guards make their nightly rounds. He stretches his arms, body shuddering a bit. He lets out a loud sigh as his shoulders settle back into their position. He considers the three pages of writing he’s already done, and he’s a little sad. How many pages has it been now? How many unanswered letters?

But those thoughts soon give away, and Arthur smiles bitterly to himself.

He can’t remember the last time he’s shared so much of himself with someone and it fills him with unimaginable bliss.

* * *

 

Arthur hears about a drought that hits south of their capital. They hear this news after they find Alfred passed out in his room when he misses breakfast. Arthur hears secondhand the scene and that enough is to break his heart: Alfred was unconscious and lay twisted in his bedsheets in a vain attempt to get help. Panting and heaving, and flittering between pain and passing out. It comes as a shock, all at once, and after hearing the news Arthur immediately goes to his side. After the drama dies down Alfred recovers, but suffers a fever for three days. There’s never enough water for him, no matter how much they bring. Arthur stays at his bedside the entire time, making sure he has everything he needs and if he’s alright. Arthur knows why it happened. He’s not stupid. It had seemed harmless at first, and he had all sorts of bravado in the beginning. But Alfred looks strange bedridden. It feels wrong somehow. The last time Arthur had seen him like this, he was only six and Alfred was only a small thing, tucked away in his bedsheets, a small red face fighting to breathe. Arthur read him so many bedtime stories that time, even if he wasn’t conscious to hear them.

Arthur doesn’t write a letter that evening. He can’t bring himself to. He didn’t think love letters could do so much, but he remembers who he is. What burden he carries. He apologizes to Alfred multiple times over, and Alfred tells him it’s not his fault. It’s ok.

His weak smile is what hurts Arthur the most.

* * *

Kiku grows nervous when he doesn’t receive a letter the next few weeks. Each night he stays by his window, waiting for the tapping of Gilbert, waiting for the delivery. He didn’t think they’d become such a part of his life, and yet he finds himself strangely empty without them. Is he doing well? Is the war taking up too much time? Did Gilbert act on his own accord and decided to stop delivering them?

Did Arthur give up and decide to leave Kiku be?

Kiku feels his stomach twist into knots at this thought, and he knows he deserves it but he also doesn’t want it to be true.

He paces by the window again, examining his fingernails, trying to reason with himself: Arthur’s busy. Arthur ran out of things to write. Gilbert got caught up. Besides Kiku has so many things to attend to, so much paperwork to do, maybe he should attend to that instead?

(Yet trying to work on that makes him feel more anxious; what was the point?)

Kiku glances at the clock again. He never stays up past three A.M because he knows when to give up. Just as Kiku goes to lie down, he hears a tapping at his window, and springs awake. He scrambles out of the bed, forgetting appearances, unlocking and opening the window in a rush. Gilbert grins toothily as soon as he does.

“What, you missed me that much?”

Kiku ignores that comment, trying to contain the surge of energy rushing through him. “Gilbert,” he bows a bit, “The letter.”

“Don’t got one.”

“What?”

Gilbert jumps in, stretching his arms above him, his back an arch that reminded Kiku of a cat. “Arthur hasn’t called for me lately. I thought I’d do some digging and thought you should know what I’ve found.”

“…He’s given up?”

“What? No.” Gilbert turns to him, arms crossed, “His King’s sick. He hasn’t left his side the entire time.”

Kiku feels his stomach lurch again. “Alfred-san is sick? We haven’t heard about this.”

“Well of course, they wouldn’t want their enemies to know. I had to do a lot of research on this, y’know, they’re keeping it real hush-hush.”

Kiku thinks of Arthur by Alfred’s side, caring for his sick King. His eyes softening as he grips Alfred’s hand, and Kiku’s stomach twists itself more and more until he feels he’ll be sick. He feels dizzy and he’s not sure it’s because of the news or the lack of sleep.

“Wanna know the best part? It’s because their land isn’t doing so good.” Gilbert tilts his head, smug, “I wonder why that is?”

Kiku stays silent. His mind is too busy reeling, and he should feel some sort of pride but all he can think of is Arthur worried sick. Arthur feeling shame. His head is still spinning. Gilbert’s act drops when he sees he doesn’t get a rise out of Kiku, and he sighs heavily.

“You can still write him.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I can send it for you. You have a chance is all I’m saying.”

Kiku considers this, and he thinks of all the things he wants to write, the menial and precious things. The answers he’s always wanted to give, and the dreams he’s had, and the way he misses him too. Kiku has been bottling up so many words and he could probably write an entire novel with them alone. Gilbert watches him expectantly, and Kiku looks down. Somehow, those red eyes feel too heavy right now. His reflection in them was too much for him to take.

“…I’m sorry, but I cannot write him.”

Kiku looks up without thinking, and it’s not his reflection that hurts him this time. It’s the somewhat bored and pained look of Gilbert’s face. As if he was looking down on something disgusting, something pathetic, something that has stopped struggling and decided to die then and there.

Or maybe Kiku was thinking that himself. He wouldn’t be too far from the truth, either way.

* * *

Kiku spends the next day half-awake and conflicted. He examines the clock on the wall of the meeting room, the banners of the Heart kingdom hanging on the same wall. He examines everything in the room as the meeting goes on, and he’s struggling to listen, because his mind keeps drifting away.  The reports are repitious drivel; everything has been in their favor lately. The forces are weakening in the Spade kingdom and its not a victory but a happy prediction of it. Kiku doesn’t feel pride for it, because he would never think of Arthur’s love as a political victory. It feels horribly dishonest to take pleasure in his loss. He wishes it didn’t have such a price.

"I say it’s time to meet them on the battlefield." Someone says across the room, and Kiku slides his glance over to him as Ludwig shifts beside Kiku.

"We’ve already engaged in battle. Do you mean we should send more reinforcements?"

"No, what I mean is that the Queen and King should enter the battlefield."

Kiku starts, eyebrows raising and his sits taller in his seat. For the King and Queen to enter the battlefield is a major moment in each Duel. It’s customary that Arthur and Alfred would meet them in kind. The entire world would be watching with anticipation. It is not an event that should be taken lightly, and so Kiku speaks up.

"I believe that action would be too rash." He glances to Ludwig, "We already have the advantage. The Spade kingdom is barely matching our strength."

Ludwig considers for a moment and Kiku hopes for his support. The council member speaks up again, pressing his issue.

"We may as well end it now then. Victory would be assured."

Kiku takes in a large breath. Things are flashing through his mind, and there’s so many things to consider. What if they were unprepared? Could Kiku face Arthur like this? There’s only one solution he can consider. He readies himself, and studies his hands, tries to form something in his heart again.

"There is another way we can assure victory. If I just-"

"No." Ludwig stops him, immediately, his heavy voice reverberating throughout the room, "We’ll enter the battlefield. Is this alright with everyone?"

Kiku doesn’t object because he’s slightly relieved and yet still torn. It’s a unanimous vote and they send word to the Spade kingdom immediately. Preparations must be made of course, and Kiku and Ludwig split it cleanly amongst themselves as they always have. Yet, before they would go sort it all out, Kiku grabs Ludwig’s sleeve before they leave the meeting room. His eyes are sharp, his mouth a thin line.

“Tonight, I wish to speak with you.”

Ludwig’s face is stoic and careful. He nods slightly. “As you wish.”

* * *

 

Kiku is not really sure why he’s still pursuing the issue. Maybe he wants someone to stop him before he makes a decision he’s sure will bring everything down with him. Maybe he wants to have some sort of excuse to reject Arthur. He wants his heart to decide and if it has to be forced, so be it. Kiku sits in front of the roaring fireplace, a cup of tea between his hands. He has not taken a drink from it, because he’s too nervous, still forming his argument in his mind. No, not an argument…a request perhaps. A need to clear the air. Kiku looks up when he hears the door open, and there’s Ludwig, tall and sturdy and incredibly tired.

“You wished to see me?”

“Please, sit.”

He does so and Kiku is strangely tense and wonders why he feels so small then. So unsure, but he presses on, enunciating his words carefully to better help his point.

“I don’t wish to avoid this topic anymore. I…I realize there is a rift between us.”

Ludwig doesn’t interrupt, and Kiku is grateful for his etiquette, how straight forward he is to work with. Kiku places the untouched teacup down on the side table beside him, the fire still warm and flickering.

“You knew what I was going to say in there,and I want to know why you would not give me the chance.”

“We had come to a decision.”

“Why won’t you return my affection?”

The air stiffens. Kiku looks at Ludwig straight on, his blue eyes wavering. He seems unsure, and he takes time to compose his answer.

“I don’t believe it’s necessary for our country.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“I know, but I believe it’s your true intent.” Ludwig frowns, “And I’m telling you now our country doesn’t need those sorts of sacrifices. You don’t need to sacrifice yourself.”

Kiku was speechless. He had been so prepared to assert his point, and yet he still couldn’t take Ludwig’s anger. No, it wasn’t anger; it was easy to call it anger, but it was more than the surface. He was, above all else, someone who was dedicated and no-nonsense. In that way, he did not hold back, not if he saw a problem that needed fixing. Kiku has to change his tactic then, he knows.

“Our country is depending on us. We need to support them.”

“We’re doing fine without it. We can run this country with our own strengths.”

“Don’t you feel we can do better?” Kiku feels he’s trying to reach out. He feels something stirring inside him, “Isn’t there more we can do?”

Ludwig sighs deeply, and Kiku feels even smaller in his seat, even weaker in his beliefs. He realizes what’s stirring in him then is not a need to assert this point. It’s the desire to oppose it. Kiku sees he’s losing then, and it’s all a matter of time.

“I’m not sure why you feel you need to push yourself.” Ludwig talks softly then, “But there’s no need. You’ve done enough as is.”

Kiku only listens at that point, soaking in the information, trying to process it still. It comes one syllable at a time, and he still can’t believe it.

“I cannot love you. Please understand that.”

Kiku breathes. He focuses on this. It’s all he can really do.

“And I would rather you stop forcing yourself like this. If you continue like this, you’ll only destroy yourself in the end.”

Kiku can’t even oppose anymore, because he knows it’s true. He waits for the sadness to hit, but it never comes. Instead, there is only a sense of relief, like a breath of fresh air after coming to the surface.

“I worry about you. As my Queen, no…” Ludwig trails off, “as my friend, I wish to see you safe.”

And the affection finally swells in Kiku’s heart. It’s not love, but it’s a personal affection nonetheless and Kiku is happy to have Ludwig’s friendship. Kiku realizes then that if they keep going like this he would lose it. There was only one path open to him, and while Kiku was scared, he wanted to walk it either way.

In the end a choice was made for him, just as he wanted. And after returning to his room, Kiku did not even stop to think about what he was doing. For once, he did as he wanted, asserted his own needs, and grabbing the pen, Kiku began to write.

Kiku began to write letters to Arthur.

He poured himself into them; all the pieces that Arthur sent, Kiku returns sevenfold. He tells him about his days, about his dreams, about his likes and dislikes. He asks how he was doing, he tells him he missed him, he admits that more than once Arthur had crossed his thoughts. He talks about the garden they would visit, and the tea they would drink, and Kiku professes perhaps that’s where he found true happiness. Not in Arthur’s confession, or his country winning the war, but in talking with Arthur for hours and hours until it was time to go home.

And Kiku begins to tear up as he confesses the darker parts, that he felt he was never enough as a Queen, that he’s wildly jealous of Alfred, and he’s afraid of losing Arthur. His waking moments are spent thinking about what they could be, and he feels guilty. But he can’t stop.

He tells Arthur he’s blunt, and too forward but that’s ok because Kiku loves that too. He admits he himself is probably a little cold and too indecisive. He hopes Arthur can love that about him too. Kiku wants Arthur there. He wants to see him now, and hold his hand, and exchange kisses and Kiku blushes as he explains he’s never wanted this until he met Arthur. That he’s experiencing something so new and thrilling, he’s simultaneously alive and scared and yet Kiku doesn’t want to let go. He wants to see him again. He wants to see him so badly.

Kiku will finish off thirty pages, written front to back. He will stare down at his work and his hand will be dirty with ink and his wrist will be cramped, but Kiku is breathless and happy. He will find himself smiling. Kiku places the letters in separate envelopes because there’s simply too much for one. He hides it in his desk drawer, and goes to bed with his heart pounding and his face flushed. Why had he resisted?

Kiku will never have the chance to send these letters. It’s not that he decided not to, it’s because Gilbert does not visit in the next few days and the day of the battle comes sooner than he had thought.

* * *

The morning is tense, and the stand off is no better. The world indeed watches with eager and hungry eyes. The people are on edge. The Diamond and Clover kingdom watch from safety, weighing the situation, casting judgements as they do. But the monarchs try not to think of that now. Kiku feels small when he sees the warships peak from the horizon; mechanical titans that dwarf their primitive troops who ride on horses and mostly have magic. But he was expecting this, and he grips the katana on his hip for reassurance. For a moment he wonders which one Arthur is on, if he is by Alfred’s side. He does away with the thought however.

The King and Queen entering the battlefield is significant because they are risking their own lives then. It’s not only a show of their dedication to their countries, but also a test of the partnership between them. Representing both strength and faith, they are proving how strong their nations are by acting as the representatives. Kiku knows this, and he looks to Ludwig who stares on coldly. Beside him, Feliciano leans over on his own horse. He gives Kiku a reassuring smile who only nods in return. It had been Feliciano’s idea that Ludwig and Kiku stay side by side, ignoring the risk of it. He said the idea of it outweighed whatever consequences it held.

Ludwig raises his staff. The front lines advance. Kiku’s heart pounds in his ears, and he feels the magic course through his veins as he prepares himself.

He can only pray that Arthur will be safe. He only wishes that they win and Arthur comes out unscathed.

* * *

“The view’s lovely, isn’t it? God, being on it is different than just building it.”

Arthur keeps watching the horizon line, a line of red and pink on the edge of it. The Heart troops are small from the deck of the warship, and Arthur looks back to Alfred who stands tall and confident.

“Are you sure you’re alright to be here?”

“What? Of course I am! I built this ship myself, I’m better than I’ve ever been.” He laughs loudly and strides to Arthur’s side, looking to the fields with him. The wind blows and its cold up there. The smell of oil almost makes Arthur gag, and he can see their field troops dotting the space before their ship. Arthur keeps glancing at Alfred, worried, and glances back at the Heart troops. Was Kiku there?

“I’m feeling better, Arthur. We’re going to win.” Alfred’s voice cuts into his thoughts, suddenly serious. He looks back to him, and Alfred pointedly ignores him, still staring straight ahead. His blond hair blows with the wind, and he looks entirely unlike himself.

“We barely have enough as is. We’ve spent all our resources on these ships.”

“Seven battleships, they won’t see what’s coming. Just look at them,” Alfred points, wagging his finger, “They don’t even have artillery. Swords and staffs. What can that do against innovation?”

His arm is shaking, and Alfred pulls it back, putting his hands in his pockets. His coat flows behind him, and he’s strangely still. Arthur feels his stomach turn into his knots.

“You’re scared.”

“You don’t hold back, do you?”

Arthur doesn’t answer. He just turns back to the battlefield, the calm before the storm suffocating them. Arthur tries to think of something to say, but half of his mind is still worried about Kiku. Where is he in that crowd? Is he behind the troops? Is he safe? Surely they’d protect them. To kill a monarch is to spell certain death for a nation. If a Queen dies prematurely, the land would definitely whither, and it would be only a matter of time for their kingdom to fall. Arthur hates the idea that Kiku was more in danger because of this fact, and doesn’t consider the mark that was on his head as well.

He had forgotten to send a letter. He wanted to tell Kiku to be safe. He wanted to tell him sorry for taking so long. He was full of so many unsaid words and they choked him.

Arthur stopped as he felt someone grab his hand. Its warmth shocked him, and he turned to find Alfred’s face red, his eyes downcast, his hand squeezing Arthur’s.

“Arthur, I…” Alfred gulps, “I’ll make sure we win. I promise.”

Alfred looks strange to him then, and it was a difference Arthur couldn’t place his finger on it. It was right on the tip of his tongue and it was something in the way he held his hand. Perhaps it was the fear in his eyes, and Arthur wanted to protect Alfred then. As childish as he was, he was still his Alfred through and through. Someone who never asked to be King and was more happy building then he was leading. He looked odd in that setting, a child trying to be an adult, so Arthur squeezes his hand back because he understands.

“I know. We’ll do it together, alright?”

Alfred looks to him, and there’s a sparkle in his eye, a flushed smile. He’s absolutely radiant. Something stirs in Arthur’s heart, and before he can decipher it, they hear footsteps behind them. Both look, and Yao’s there. He looks down to their joined hands, and then back at them, raising an eyebrow. This enough is to make Alfred blush, and he lets go. Arthur only feels annoyed.

“Your orders?” Yao asks pointedly, and they look to each other again. Alfred smiles, and pats Arthur on the shoulder as he approaches Yao.

“Fire off the cannons.”

“So soon?”

“It’s a warning. They’re so eager to meet us on the battlefield, so let’s see just how much they can take.” Alfred chuckles, and he’s wearing a mask now, Arthur can tell. He looks back to the frontlines, and he still tries to tell which of them is Kiku.

“I’ll ready the shield,” Arthur simply says, and turns back around.

* * *

The calm is blown away, and the chaos comes back. The Spade kingdom doesn’t get to act first as they had wanted. Kiku had prepared his soldiers for their attack for weeks. The battle is begun with a magic force that strikes the warship at the front of the fleet. Alfred was wrong, because innovation could still fall to the most powerful of magic, and the energy shocks their ship. Alfred tries to calm their men and shouts orders to fight back. The left side of their ship is badly damaged, but they still launch assault with what they have. It’s enough power to rip the land asunder, and a large quake splits Kiku from Ludwig and Feliciano. He cannot get back, and he doesn’t even have time to because he has to fight off Spade soldiers. What troops he has with him are trying their best to get him back, and to survive. There’s too much going on to figure out who is where. Kiku cuts away man after man, and tries to think of how to return to his friends. His magic is quick and his sword is heavy on his arm.

There’s blood on his clothes, and he has adrenaline pumping through his veins. He searches each face before he strikes. He makes sure they’re not Arthur.

But Arthur is not on the battlefield. Arthur was on the left side of the battleship. Arthur was hit.

He hadn’t finished the spell in time. He was lined up with the other court magicians and chanting, channeling energy into a shield large enough to cover the battleships. He was too focused to stop the attack, and was hit along with the rest of them. Arthur’s ears were ringing, and his entire world upside down, and he realized as he saw the passing Spade symbol on the side of the ship, that he has been thrown off. The wind screams through his ears, and his heart is pounding. He casts a wind spell to cushion his fall in the last second and its enough to make sure he doesn’t die. However there’s still an impact and Arthur hits the ground hard. He hears a crack, and cries out in pain, the throbbing shaking his entire body. He steadies his breath, and gets up. His arm is broken. It hurts like hell, and Arthur gets up, grimacing and gritting his teeth.

He’s surrounded by other men who were thrown off, and try as he might to stir them there’s none that are still alive. He checks his area and he’s been blown into the surrounding forest. He considers healing his arm, but it would take too much time and he’s in too vulnerable a place. He needs to conserve his energy. He needs to get back to his men. He stalks the forest in stealth, and watches for enemy soldiers. He’s alone and he’s injured. He needs to get back to the ship. Arthur silently curses all the resources they poured into those behemoths; he curses himself for putting his country in this situation and he just hopes his magic will be enough to protect him for now.

Kiku is alone. He is covered in blood, and he walks warily, sword bloody and ready in his hands. He feels cold sweat on the back of his neck, and his armor is so heavy on his shoulders. They had killed his horse back there, and dragged him off the animal. They had almost got him, but it took Kiku’s all to fight back. His troops are gone and dead. He needed to get back to Ludwig and Feliciano. His eyes darted, watching the trees. He was in entirely too much danger; he was a hot target for any Spade soldier, he was alone and unprepared. They had agreed to this battle too rashly, he cursed the council for going through this, he was afraid to die and Kiku couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder.

The forest was dark and hard to navigate, and Kiku wouldn’t tell whose side he was on. Was this closer to the Spades? Was he near the Heart army? His body felt heavy and his lungs screamed for air. He had been fighting so long, and already the fatigue kicked in. He willed his legs to walk, no matter how exhausted he was. The fear kept him going, and Kiku gripped his sword so hard he could feel bruises form on the insides of his fingers.

And Kiku stopped. Held his breath. There, in the distance, he swore he saw something. No, it couldn’t be, it was another tree he reasoned. But then it moved closer. Kiku tensed up; a person. It was a person, and he waited to hear someone call ‘Your Majesty’ so he could know he was safe.

The figure began to run towards him at an alarming speed, and Kiku panicked. He was in danger, it was here now, _he needed to do something_.

“Kiku!” The figure cried, but Kiku ignored this and shot his hand out and launched an attack towards the person. It hit with a resounding crack and the distant figure flew back, hitting a tree, a painful sound accompanying the impact. Kiku heard the person cough, hacking, wheezing. He immediately ran to see the damage, to finish off whatever he hit.

With each step, the image got clearer, and the person became a form. And Kiku felt relieved when he saw the iconic Spade blue, but then he stopped in horror when he saw the crumpled figure before him.

Arthur sat there, holding his bloody arm, slumped forward, shaking furiously.

“Oh God.” Kiku whispered barely. He shook his head, feeling his body shake. No, this wasn’t what he wanted. It was never what he wanted.

Slowly, Arthur struggled to look up. He stared at Kiku for a moment, his green eyes glassy, and he smiled slowly. It was strange. He didn’t feel anything then.

“You’re safe.” he wheezed out, “I’m glad.”

He wondered vaguely if he was dreaming because it had been so long, and he had been so anxious. Yet, there he was, in the prideful Heart colors of red and pink. Kiku began to tear up and he threw his sword beside him, and got in front of Arthur. He looked so hurt and Kiku felt so horribly guilty. He’d never wanted to see Arthur like this, and it hurt all the more to know he did it.

“I didn’t know it was you. I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have done it if it was you, I…I’m so sorry.” Kiku choked out, and he broke down.

“You couldn’t have known. This is war.”

“I don’t care about that!” Kiku screams, and his eyes are wildly desperate. He begins to heal Arthur, and he’s sobbing as he does. Arthur looks at him incredulous.

“Kiku, I’m the enemy.”

“I don’t care.”

“You can’t heal me like this, you-”

“Arthur.” Kiku sniffles, “You’re so hurt. Oh God, you’re so hurt. Please.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything more, and lets him do as he wants. Surely this must be a dream. The injured area is bathed in light, and Kiku won’t stop crying. He feels he should explain his situation, but there’s too many emotions right now. Kiku looks so scared and so hurt. Any logic fell away, and he just said the first thing he could think of.

“…You’re worried about me?”

“Of course I am.”

Arthur feels himself tear up, and all emotions he ignored came rushing forth. “You didn’t answer my letters.”

“I read them. I read every single one.”

There was a sense of relief, of selfish pleasure, and Arthur felt so readily accepted. He swallowed and felt the lump in his throat, the pain in his arm lessen. There were distant sounds of warfare, and Arthur soon forgot about all of it. He would’ve been content to know this was a dream before death because it would’ve been everything he wanted. Everything he had needed. With that, Arthur decided he needed to take the time to say what he needed to say. He wouldn’t have another chance, and so he spoke.

“Kiku,” Arthur whispers, “I love you.”

He doesn’t look up.

“I’ve never wanted something so much. I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but I want to say it so much more. I love you. I love you so much.”

Kiku stops. He sits back on his legs, shoulders slumped, and Arthur watches his small curled up figure. The air smells of gunpowder and its filled with screams. He waits as long as he needs to and Kiku looks up to him. His eyes are just as they had been in the garden. Lost, and pleading. But this time is different because he’s smiling through his tears.

“I love you, as well. As Kiku, all I want right now is to be by your side.”

Arthur begins to cry. He’s smiling and he asks him if its true and Kiku nods. The happiness practically bursts from his chest, and the world is so vibrant then, so beautiful. Kiku is blood stained, but he’s smiling and there was nothing that could compare in the world. If this was heaven, Arthur gladly accepts it. He feels whole and complete and where he is supposed to be. He breaks down, and his heart is full and its there. It’s there and Kiku wraps arms around him, and they cry into each other.

Arthur says it as much as he wants to and it still doesn’t seem enough. Kiku closes his eyes and cherishes the words, the inflection of the V and the satisfaction of the you.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

Kiku finds them so full of emotion, and he knows why they’re said to be the most beautiful words in the world. Arthur made them sound like a prayer and he spoke it with quiet reverence and gentle devotion.

It’s Kiku who pulls Arthur forward into a kiss, and they savor it completely. It’s warm and its quick and Kiku pulls back and begins to apologize for wavering for so long. But Arthur cuts him off and pulls him back in, and Kiku lets it go. There was no anger, and there were no more regrets. He wraps arms around Arthur’s neck and feels his hands on his waist, and tilts his head to the side. His lips are chapped, and he tastes like metallic blood, but Kiku keeps kissing him.

Both sides will lose the battle.

It will be a horrible loss for both of them, and one could parse the losses but it still stands that there wasn’t much difference. Both sides lose equally in a horrid manner. It will be detrimental to both their countries.

But for now, Arthur and Kiku are not Queens and they are themselves. They are happy and they can’t find room for the guilt. They are accepted and they’re unafraid, they are the exactly where they need to be. They feel as if they reached home, and even afterwards there will be no guilt.

They will listen to the numbers read out to them after the battle, the casualties they caused. They will see the stress on their Kings’ shoulders and the sadness in their people’s faces. They will see the damage they caused, and they will only remember one thing.

 The warmth of their embrace, the cold, dark forest, and the words on their lips as they finally got to speak what they were too afraid to say before.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
